


How Far Down

by itsnotmyfault



Series: Mcyttober [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Day 3: Spider, Death, Heavy Angst, Horror, Insanity, Isolation, Loneliness, Lost - Freeform, Mcyttober, Minecraft IRL, Mineshafts, Other, Sorry i discontinued, abandoned series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26794615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsnotmyfault/pseuds/itsnotmyfault
Summary: How far down until you realize that's the only way forward?
Relationships: None
Series: Mcyttober [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948123
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	How Far Down

**Author's Note:**

> *claps hands together* get ready for some fucking EXISTENTIAL DREAD
> 
> Lmao anyways enjoy this one!

The mineshaft goes on. 

He doesn’t remember where it started, he doesn’t remember where it ends. It just keeps going and going. 

It’s not in a straight line. It’s never in a straight line. There are forks in the road, branching paths, stairways down. It feels like a labyrinth. 

Each time he thinks he’s close to the surface, another pile of gravel falls. Another pool of lava is mistaken for sunlight. Every time. 

He doesn’t know what he’s searching for at this point. A way out seems impossible. Treasure is arbitrary. He just wanders. 

The sounds of hisses and crawling legs follows him wherever he goes. He’s forgotten what the world above sounds like. He’s forgotten what people sound like. He hasn’t spoken in months. Screamed, yes. Cried, yes. But there’s no one down here. There’s never anyone down here. 

So he doesn’t talk. 

He wanders if he would feel better if he did talk. He tries. It comes out as a broken sob. 

The colors of the mineshaft blend together. The stark oak wood begins to bleed into a softer color, soft enough to make him mistake it for stone. Or maybe that’s the torch’s fault. Who knows. 

He doesn’t know what’s driving him more insane. The lack of sight or the lack of sound. All he knows that if he loses one of the two, he’ll die right there and then. 

The hissess stopped. 

He freaks out, though he doesn’t know why. Maybe that was the only sign of life that was keeping him awake. Either way, the silence is killing him. 

He walks back, hands shaking. He needs that noise again. He needs to hear something. To feel something. To be aware of  _ something.  _

The hiss begins again. This time it’s much louder. 

He likes it. The hiss indicates he hasn’t lost everything. He can still hear, he can still see, though very little. The coal in his torch is almost gone, leaving with nothing more than a sad puddle of light, his very last reminder of the world above.

He follows the scuttling noises. It doesn’t matter whether he lives or dies at this point. He just wants to feel something other than dread and loneliness. 

He feels something brush past his leg. He doesn’t care. 

He feels himself drop the torch out of his hand, watching as his final piece of light was snuffed out. He doesn’t care. 

He feels something smooth to his right, keeping his arm in place. He doesn’t care. 

He feels something crawl up his back. He doesn’t care. 

He feels something sharp sink into the back of his neck, and his limbs begin to feel more like bricks. He doesn’t care. 

And when the sweet release of death takes him, the only thing he’ll care about is never having to feel numb again. 

-


End file.
